


Fist Throwing

by Birdbitch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdbitch/pseuds/Birdbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras got into a fight and Grantaire does a little bit of comforting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fist Throwing

"I didn’t think you would ever get into a fist fight." As it happens, Enjolras is letting Grantaire—of all people, because Grantaire was there and it’s a shorter walk from the bar to Grantaire’s dorm room (shorter by about three flights of stairs, but)—pat Neosporin over a split in his eyebrow and he’s got a cold bottle of beer pressed against the back of his head.

“Why not?”

Grantaire shrugs, pulls away so he can riffle through his desk drawer for a small bandaid. He can’t find any that will do the job and he frowns. “You’re not really a violent person,” he says, “I don’t have a bandaid for that, is it fine? It’s not bleeding.”

“It’s fine. But you’re not a violent person, either, and you get into fights.” Enjolras stares past him and shrugs his shoulders. “I can fight just fine. I don’t like it because I feel bad hitting people, but—”

“I should have noticed that guy before he hit you,” Grantaire says quickly, and he’s been looking guilty since it happened, since he got ready to knock the guy out and Enjolras did the job for him. “I heard him talking, but I didn’t think—”

Enjolras sighs. “Please don’t blame yourself. You have a tendency to blame yourself for everything and I should have been paying attention, anyways. You can’t—it’s not your job to make sure nothing happens to me, you know?”

“Even if it’s not—”

“You act like it is, and, in that case, then making sure nothing happens to you is my job. Alright?” He stands up and pulls Grantaire from his crouching position with him. “I’m fine. You’re fine. I’ll consider the potential audience of my words the next time I go out. Is that acceptable?”

Grantaire fidgets. “I get nervous,” he says finally, “But you’re right.” Enjolras smiles at him and he can feel himself melt despite all of this because, even with what happened, Enjolras manages to look resplendent with the bruise that’s forming on his face.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he says, and Grantaire feels his cheeks start to heat up before Enjolras leans to kiss him. It gets messy, quick, and Enjolras leads Grantaire over to his own bed, stops kissing him for a second to whisper, “Do you want to, tonight?” worried that Grantaire might say no out of a concern that it’s been too busy a night as is.

“I think it’s something I’d be into.” A small kind of relief floods onto Enjolras’s face and he climbs onto the bed, waits for Grantaire to get up next to him, before moving to sit on his lap.


End file.
